“Oh, that poor, dear Louiset!” said Nana.  “Are you very drenched, my darling?”

The little thing silently allowed his hands to be wiped.  The young woman had taken out her handkerchief.  Then she dabbed it over Bijou, who was trembling more violently than ever.  It would not matter in the least; there were a few drops on the white satin of her dress, but she didn’t care a pin for them.  The bouquets, refreshed by the rain, glowed like snow, and she smelled one ecstatically, drenching her lips in it as though it were wet with dew.

Meanwhile the burst of rain had suddenly filled the stands.  Nana looked at them through her field glasses.  At that distance you could only distinguish a compact, confused mass of people, heaped up, as it were, on the ascending ranges of steps, a dark background relieved by light dots which were human faces.  The sunlight filtered in through openings near the roof at each end of the stand and detached and illumined portions of the seated multitude, where the ladies’ dresses seemed to lose their distinguishing colors.  But Nana was especially amused by the ladies whom the shower had driven from the rows of chairs ranged on the sand at the base of the stands.  As courtesans were absolutely forbidden to enter the enclosure, she began making exceedingly bitter remarks about all the fashionable women therein assembled.  She thought them fearfully dressed up, and such guys!

There was a rumor that the empress was entering the little central stand, a pavilion built like a chalet, with a wide balcony furnished with red armchairs.

“Why, there he is!” said Georges.  “I didn’t think he was on duty this week.”

The stiff and solemn form of the Count Muffat had appeared behind the empress.  Thereupon the young men jested and were sorry that Satin wasn’t there to go and dig him in the ribs.  But Nana’s field glass focused the head of the Prince of Scots in the imperial stand.

“Gracious, it’s Charles!” she cried.

She thought him stouter than formerly.  In eighteen months he had broadened, and with that she entered into particulars.  Oh yes, he was a big, solidly built fellow!

All round her in the ladies’ carriages they were whispering that the count had given her up.  It was quite a long story.  Since he had been making himself noticeable, the Tuileries had grown scandalized at the chamberlain’s conduct.  Whereupon, in order to retain his position, he had recently broken it off with Nana.  La Faloise bluntly reported this account of matters to the young woman and, addressing her as his Juliet, again offered himself.  But she laughed merrily and remarked: 

“It’s idiotic!  You won’t know him; I’ve only to say, ‘Come here,’ for him to chuck up everything.”

For some seconds past she had been examining the Countess Sabine and Estelle.  Daguenet was still at their side.  Fauchery had just arrived and was disturbing the people round him in his desire to make his bow to them.  He, too, stayed smilingly beside them.  After that Nana pointed with disdainful action at the stands and continued: